


Via et Veritas et Vita (The Way and the Truth and the Life)

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 12:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: Castiel moves on in a world without the Winchesters. The reader, fleeing from the shadow of an unknown past, finds an unwitting ally in the wandering angel. Perhaps together they can find the way. CastielXReader series. Angst. Hurt/comfort (emotional).





	1. Prologue

Smoke hung in the cold metallic air of the meadow - winding its path for miles into the surrounding forest. As if in deference to the occasion, nary a cricket dare offer up a song to the flickering orange darkness - any effort to do so would be deemed unworthy.

Castiel’s arms hung at his sides, trench coat swaying gently in the draft of the fire. The angel’s blue eyes wetly reflected the firelight. For all his celestial power, Castiel could not save Dean Winchester in the end. Not from old age. Not from death itself. And so he now stood final vigil over his fallen friend, his brother, performing the last rites of hunter’s funeral. He guarded the fire out of respect, loyalty, love, and because Dean would have kicked his ass if he didn’t see the task through. Cas smiled at the thought.

His gaze shifted to a patch of ground at the edge of the firelight marked with a rounded stone - the final resting place of Sam Winchester, lost far too soon, sacrificing himself to save his brother in a hunt gone sideways. Dean had never forgiven himself. Cas had also never forgiven himself for Sam’s death and Dean’s guilt - completely eschewing Heaven to spend the ensuing years at Dean’s side, never quite managing to fill the monumental emptiness. Dean didn’t ask to be burned here, he didn’t have to. Even knowing the brothers must certainly be reunited in Heaven, it was the only place on Earth Cas could think of to bring Dean’s body.

The sun angled high overhead before the final embers of the fire blackened to ash. Cas placed a stone in the midst of the ash, a plume of soot leaping into the air. Crouching to slip the Impala’s keys beneath the heavy rock, he pressed his palm to the smooth stone, squinting up to the blue sky, “In case you need her.” Straightening up, he stepped back to brush the dust from his knees. He studied the stone intently for some time, eyes swirling with uncertainty of what to do next, where to go from here. His purpose on Earth since he first inhabited a vessel had ceased to be. Truly, for the first time in his earthly life, the angel was free to choose his path.

“Goodbye, Dean,” he nodded, turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees. Leaving the meadow and the two stones behind, he did not look back.


	2. Chapter 2

_Don’t be afraid. The voice is soothing. An open window to the night clears the air of fear. Wind ruffles the curtains. Everything is going to be okay. The harsh cry of a raven pierces the calm. It’s nothing. Listen to me. I’m going to give you a choice. Time is short. You need to make a decision. Something moves unnoticed in the shadowed corner. Take a deep breath and…_

“Hun, you’re going to have to order something if you want to stay,” a woman in a neatly pressed blue dress and white apron stood beside the table.

You picked up your head, sleep-deprived eyes struggling to focus in the bright fluorescent light of the diner.

She pressed her hand lightly to your shoulder, concern deepening the creases around her eyes and mouth, “You okay? You want me to call someone?”

“Yes,” you murmured through cracked lips, “I mean no. There isn’t…I don’t know.” A renewed surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins and you flinched away from her touch. Senses suddenly heightened, your eyes darted to the darkness of night clamoring against the diner windows. You bit your tongue, tasting blood, suppressing the urge to panic. Frantic fingers found the change in your pocket, drawing the cold metal out into your palm. You gazed imploringly into the woman’s face, “Please, how much for a cup of coffee?”

The woman looked from your face to your open palm, shaking her head, “That’ll be enough.” She smiled sadly, turned and disappeared through the swinging kitchen door.

You exhaled relief, baggy eyes drawn again to the windows, to the night. The tick of an old-fashioned clock over the counter tapped out the seconds until the sun would rise, until it would be safe to move again. The heady smell of coffee and bacon and the clanging of metal on porcelain broke your reverie.

“Here you go sweetie,” the blue dressed woman slid a burger and fries in front of you while simultaneously pouring a steaming mug of coffee, “Chef’s special.”

You gulped the saliva flooding your mouth, pushing the plate away, “I’m sorry, there’s been a mistake. I don’t have money for this.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” she pushed the plate back, “When we’ve given all we have to give, it’s more than enough. I can see you’ve got a lot on your mind, a lot of troubles nagging you, and hunger doesn’t have to be one of them if I can help it.”

“You’re very kind,” you grasped her hand, overwhelmed with gratitude, eyes brimming with moisture, “Thank you. If there’s anything I can do, anything…”

She shook her head, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “You just enjoy.”

_The shadow reaches out – seizing and hungry. The voice is silenced. Knees strike the floor. Head lolls backward. The room spins. Clutter swirls in the eye of the storm. A smothered scream. Blinding white pain. The hollowness overwhelms. Something was taken – torn away. Don’t move. Panic. A bird flees. Ebony wings beat against the edge of the window. Sirens scream. Exhale and…_

The clattering sound of blinds being lowered to block the streaming morning sunlight roused you from a fitful slumber. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“Rise and shine,” a rough looking man clapped his hands loudly, “Need you to move on now. Doris’ shift ended a couple hours ago and she made me swear not to boot you ‘til the sun rose up.” He gestured unapologetically to the blinds with his thumb, “Sun’s up.”

Bolting upright, you hurried to gather your jacket and backpack, rushing toward the door.

“Wait,” you turned your head to see the man holding up a swaying plastic bag, “that woman is something else. A saint. Got these for you next door at the Gas ‘n Sip. Says you have to be hospitable like to strangers ‘cause you never know when it might be an angel you’re helping.”

Accepting the bag, you found it packed with bottles of water, crackers, and beef jerky. You peered into his eyes, perceiving a softness of character through the surly front he put on, “Please tell Doris thanks again for me. I won’t forget the kindness. Of either of you.”

He nodded begrudgingly, pointing to the door, “Now out, breakfast crowd will be here any minute. I’m not a hotel.”

You dashed into the street, gratified to feel the sun’s warmth on your skin. The light meant safety. The light banished shadow. You walked briskly, following the road east.

_Confusion. Such emptiness. It’s not safe here. Nowhere is safe. Leave the light on. Light is life. Light fills the void. The shadow is not sated. The shadow lurks everywhere. Didn’t you hear the call of the raven? Didn’t you feel the wind blowing through your bones? Don’t you see it? There, again, in the corner. Please, the light. Don’t swallow the pills. Stay alert. Escape. Run and…_

Your eyes cracked open, blinking against the brightness of the setting sun, hand moving reflexively to shield yourself. Inhaling sharply, your lungs filled with the cool evening air. You cursed the lost daylight. You’d leaned against a utility pole hours ago to tend your blistering feet, closing your eyes for what seemed only a moment, succumbing to exhaustion. “Dammit!” You yelped, scrambling to your feet, cutting your palm on a rusted nail. Unwinding the bandana from your neck, you wrapped your bleeding hand. Your eyes focused on the long black shadow of the utility pole stretching out along the ground toward the horizon. You knew the shadow was getting closer, tracing your steps through the black hours, steadily closing the distance. And here you’d lost hours of daylight, of time to stay ahead, out of its grasp. The horizon swallowed the last rays of the orange sun. You searched helplessly in every direction - no sign of life, of light. Your ears perked up to the sound of a vehicle on the quiet desert road. You grabbed your backpack, twirling and racing to the side of the road in a cloud of dust. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!” You watched the car recede into the distance. Standing on the center line now, you kicked a rock and shook an angry fist skyward, “Dammit!” Your lament was answered with the screeching of metal, the glow of red brake lights, and the smell of burning rubber.

Castiel glanced in the rear view mirror, foot firmly mashing the brake pedal well before he registered the tiny figure gesticulating wildly in the middle of the road. Clenching his jaw, he twisted around to gaze out the back window. The figure was still there, running toward his car now. He sat back squarely in the seat, giving his foot a castigatory scowl.

“Hey, thanks for stopping,” you leaned into the passenger window, panting, “I didn’t think you saw me.”

He blinked at you, the thought passing through his mind that he hadn’t seen you at all, that something outside of his control caused him to stop the car, and that since you seemed equally surprised, in all likelihood it wasn’t you.

You forced a friendly smile despite the awkward silence - he appeared to be some kind of business professional with a neatly tailored suit and startling blue eyes, “You mind?” You inclined your head askance at the empty passenger seat, “It’s getting dark. You’re the first sign of life I’ve seen on this road today.”

He nodded his head in assent.

“Great! Thank you,” you opened the door, tossing your bag on the floor and flopping into the seat.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment before he shifted the car into gear. His voice cracked, rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in a long while, “Where are you going?”

You dug into your backpack for a bottle of water, leaning back wearily in the seat with a sigh, “Away. But I’ll settle for the first well-lit town we pass through,” you chugged half the bottle and offered the rest to him, “you?”

He shook his head, “Forward.”

You stared at him, instinctively wanting to be afraid of his strange manner, but also sensing you were safe.

He shifted uneasily under your scrutiny, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you turned to the window, “I’m just thinking it’s lucky for me that away and forward share this random desert road.”

He hummed, still suspecting something beyond mere coincidence had caused him to cross paths with you, “I’m Castiel.”

“I’m,” your fingers unconsciously brushed the plastic band secured to your wrist, hesitating, “Jane.”

He saw the movement, noting the name on the band, the panged expression that flashed across your features. He cleared his throat, “Jane Doe. In my experience, that’s the designation given to a person when there is no known name.”

“Well, it sounds like a more acceptable moniker than hey, you,” you shrugged, mind turning inward, wincing at the emptiness. Having lost everything, running for your life, your forgotten name seemed to you to be the least of your worries.

“I suppose that’s true,” he turned his focus to the road.

You squinted back at him, holding your breath, uncertain if he’d read your mind or simply replied to your comment. You exhaled, shaking off the odd impression, yawning, “I’m afraid I’m not up for conversation. Do you mind if I sleep?”

“Not at all,” his eyes remained fixed ahead, expression unreadable.

“Thanks Cas,” you curled into the seat, arms hugging your chest, sleep seizing you the instant your eyes fell shut.

A subtle frown crept across Cas’ mouth. He hadn’t heard his nickname since the last time Dean spoke it.

_“Cas?” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper, “do you hear it?”_

_“What is it, Dean?” The angel leaned over the bed, pressing his palm to Dean’s chest, unable to heal his failing heart any longer, settling instead for easing the pain._

_Dean’s fingers weakly grasped his shoulder, pulling Cas’ ear to his mouth, “Zeppelin.” Dean exhaled, faintly chuckling, hand slipping._

_Cas pulled away, perplexed, tongue poised to ask Dean what a German airship had to do with dying, but Dean was already gone._

_Cas reached out, brushing Dean’s green eyes closed, “Farewell, my friend.”_


End file.
